There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays
by Kamakaze Kheri
Summary: For once he isn't flying on ahead of her like he did their entire journey throughout the league.  This time, he was right beside her, right where he belonged.  Christmas fic for the Pokemon Fic Exchange at LJ.


**This is my Secret Santa story I wrote for the Pokemon Fic Exchange this year for kitsuneasika over at LiveJournal. I know it's a little late, but enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own Pokemon.**

* * *

><p>Dawn comes home two weeks before Christmas to a depressingly gloomy looking Twinleaf Town. The snow from the previous week's blizzard has long since melted, except for the large piles pushed off of front walk ways and the snowmen that children had built.<p>

All in all, the lack of Christmas spirit is appalling.

Dawn walks briefly between the houses, pausing here and there as memories return to her. There was that one time that Barry fell out of that oak tree trying to retrieve their Frisbee. Or that time where Lucas knocked over all of Mr. Marfleet's stacked wood and the three of them hid in the forest for what felt like years, hoping that they would never be found, never be caught, never be punished.

She passes the lab and remembers that this is where they grew up. Grew up and grew apart. Where Lucas got a job at being an assistant with his Chimchar, where Dawn chose her Turtwig and set off on an adventure. Where Barry picked up his Piplup and flew like the wind, never looking back.

Dawn hasn't seen Barry in such a long time.

She stops outside of his house, tempted to knock on the door. Would he be home for the holidays? Dawn considers the idea, but then dismisses it almost immediately. The only thing that Barry had wanted besides a Pokemon of his own was to get out of Twinleaf Town, to spread his wings and fly. To explore. To conquer.

To be Sinnoh League Champion.

A slight twinge of guilt chews at the inside of Dawn's stomach and she turns away towards her own house instead. Her mother wouldn't be expecting her until closer to Christmas and Dawn had wanted to surprise her. She pulls the house key from her pocket and fits it into the lock, hearing the mechanism click softly before pushing open the door.

The first thing she sees is Barry sitting at her kitchen table.

"Dawn!" her mother exclaims, dropping the pan of cookies onto the counter with a bang and rushing to embrace her daughter in a hug. Dawn remains rigid as she stares over her mother's shoulder at a boy she hadn't seen in a very, very, long time.

The thing about Barry is that he appeared to look ageless, like time hadn't changed him at all. He was taller, sure, but his hair was as unruly as ever, his eyes holding the same steely look they did the day that she had beaten him for the title of Champion.

"Dawn," he says curtly, nodding at her briefly. He drains the last of whatever is sitting in his mug and then stands, winding his scarf tighter around his neck. "Thanks for the tea, Johanna," he says brightly, all traces of hostility gone.

"Anytime, Barry," Dawn's mum gushes as she pulls away from her daughter, looking her up and down. "I'll probably send some brownies over with Dawn later. I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on."

Dawn isn't sure whether or not to tell her mother that she hasn't spoken to Barry in three years, but Barry just says, "Sounds good," before squeezing past them and out the front door.

Dawn spends the rest of the day being pampered and peppered with questions from her mother who attempts to bake brownies and dote upon her only daughter at the same time.

"It's fine, Mum, I'm fine," Dawn insists for the tenth time in fifteen minutes, pushing away a second sandwich. "Just make the brownies. You know how Barry gets." There's a brief pause where Dawn contemplates her words. Her mother might know how Barry got, but did she? It had been so long ...

"You're right," Johanna says with a laugh. "Knowing Barry, he'll probably try to fine me."

Dawn goes upstairs and sits in her old room after that. She can see Barry out in his front yard with his Empoleon, stringing Christmas lights from the eaves of his house. What would have happened if Barry had won instead? Would their rolls be reversed, Dawn stringing the lights with her Torterra outside and Barry watching her from his window? No, Dawn thinks, shaking her head. Because Barry would never watch her from his bedroom window.

He'd come outside and help her.

Barry is still hanging lights when Dawn comes outside half an hour later with a plate of brownies balanced in her hands.

"Barry?" she calls, glancing around the house.

"Back here," comes her reply. Dawn steps gingerly over one of the many bushes Barry's mother planted the summer they turned nine and follows the sound of Empoleon's squawking until she finds Barry perched on the edge of the roof while the ladder remains lying on the ground.

"What happened?" Dawn exclaims, almost dropping her plate of brownies.

"You can ask him," Barry grumbles, kicking a foot towards his Pokemon, who squawks in protest again.

"Here," Dawn says, handing the brownies to Empoleon. Carefully, she hauls the ladder upright and props it up against the house again, a foot from where Barry is sitting. He cocks an eyebrow at her but scoots over nonetheless and shimmies his way back towards the ground.

"I take it you're here to drop off the brownies?" There's no thank-you, but Dawn doesn't mind. She knows she doesn't deserve it anyway.

"Um, yeah," Dawn replies. "And I thought, you know, if you weren't busy or anything, if you, um, maybe wanted to, um, talk?"

Barry regards her carefully, as if maybe she'll disappear if he blinks or looks away. Finally he says, "I'm busy right now. But if you want to help me, I guess we can talk while we work."

It's not ideal, Dawn thinks, but she'll take what she can get.

They work for an hour outside, tacking the Christmas lights up to Barry's house. Dawn finds out that if they stand on Torterra's back they can circle the whole house easily, with Barry holding the lights in place and Dawn stapling them to the sideboards. It's silent for the first little while and Dawn wonders when things got so awkward between them; being wit Barry used to be as easy as breathing and now it was like she was struggling for breath every minute she was with him.

"So," Barry says when they're rounding the last corner, "what's it like to be _the champion?" _

It's said sarcastically, bitterly, but Dawn doesn't mind too much. She welcomes the conversation. "It's alright," she admits. "It's a bit lonely, and tiresome. You get bored with beating people all the time."

Barry smirks as Dawn punches another staple into the side of the house. "Right. Tired of beating people."

"It's true!" Dawn replies indignantly. "There's no learning experience."

"There's not much to learn when you're the best."  
>Dawn frowns as Torterra shuffles over and she staples the last section of lights onto Barry's house. "Just because I'm the Champion of Sinnoh doesn't mean that I'm the best," she says quietly. "You never stop getting better."<p>

Their conversation dies when they climb off of Torterra's back and Dawn hands Barry the staple gun back, but he invites her inside nonetheless to share brownies and hot chocolate. Dawn's surprised to see that hardly anything about Barry's house has changed since she's last been back to Twinleaf Town, that the mugs are still in the same place and that Barry's mum still hides the marshmallows in the same place. It's like taking a step back in time.

Despite the distance between them, Dawn stays at Barry's until the sun begins to set. She's pushing her feet back into her boots Barry says, "I told your mum I would do your Christmas lights tomorrow. If you want to help again, it would get done a lot faster."

It's the closest thing Dawn is going to get to an invitation, so she smiles at Barry, winds her scarf around her neck and says, "Sure. I'll see you at ten."

Barry arrives at Dawn's house the next day at ten o'clock on the dot (of course he's there on time, Dawn muses. Some things never change). He's shuffling his feet on her door mat and hands her back the plate that had held the brownies she had delivered yesterday.

"Did you put it in a different container?" Dawn asks as she places the plate in the sink.

"Er, no," Barry replies. "I just … I ate them all last night."

Dawn laughs while she buttons up her coat. "All the brownies? Barry, there was a whole pan there!"

"Yeah, well, I got hungry," Barry says defensively. Despite his tone, there's a grin on his face that Dawn hasn't seen in ages. She smiles back in return and it's almost, _almost, _like nothing changed between them.

It takes the two of them two and a half an hours to fish the lights out of the attic. Barry finds them hiding under a box of clothes that had belonged to Dawn's mother when she was younger.

"Did your mum really wear this stuff?" Barry asks, holding up a frilly blue frock with so much lace it might as well have been made out of doilies.

"You know my mum was a coordinator," Dawn says with a laugh. "Everyone dresses up for contests."

Barry mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, "I'd like to see you in this thing," and Dawn smiles and says, "Here, give me that. I bet it'll fit me."

Barry cocks an eyebrow at Dawn (something she remembers him doing quite often. She had never been able to get only one of her eyebrows to move. That had always been Barry's talent.) but hands her the dress anyway. There's a dressing screen at the other end of the room that Dawn disappears behind, and when she emerges again, she feels like she's drowning in fabric.

"Oh my gosh," Barry gasps between fits of laughter. "It looks like it ate you!"

Dawn humphs good naturedly and turns to the nearest box, delighted to find it full of clothes that must have belonged to her father. "Try this on," she tells Barry, pulling out a tuxedo from the box. Barry laughs but accepts the outfit and disappears behind the screen. Minutes later he's returned, digging an umbrella and a top hat out from behind a bookshelf.

"My, my," he says, putting on an accent and peering at Dawn with a rather pompous expression. "You're looking simply _marvelous _this afternoon. Just look at the frills on your dress. They're simply all the rage now, I hear."

Dawn giggles, pulling at the folds of her skirt and drawing herself up to her full height. "You're looking rather dashing yourself, Mister. The top hat just finishes off the look nicely."

"It's fabulous," Barry determines. "_I'm _fabulous."

Dawn doesn't think she's laughed this hard in a long, long time, and soon she and Barry are laughing and trying on every outfit in the attic.

It's almost like someone lifted the curtain and Dawn could see exactly how things were supposed to be. How things should have played out in that battle for the top.

Their dress up shenanigans are interrupted by Dawn's mother poking her head through the trap door with a plate of sandwiches and two mugs of hot cocoa.

"Oh!" she exclaims when she sees her daughter and neighbour. "I was wondering what was taking so long with the Christmas lights. Now I know."

The stony expression that Dawn had come to see on Barry's face over the past day and a half returned. "Right. Sorry, Johanna," he says, pulling the winter hat off of his head and placing it carefully back in the box that he found it. "We'll get on that. And thanks for lunch."

"Well, thanks for setting up the lights," Johanna replies. "If you ever get around to it, that is." She laughs lightly and Barry's answering call sounds forced, but only Dawn can tell.

She can tell because it doesn't sound anything like it did five minutes before.

The Christmas lights end up being found behind a box of Dawn's old Poke Dolls. They haul them out of the attic carefully and then set to untangling them outside.

There's a silence that hangs over the two of them now, and Dawn remembers a time when the silences weren't so awkward, when she wasn't dying inside to tell Barry everything, to apologize for her mistakes, to tell him she missed him.

The lights are hung in record time and Barry is gone before dinner. Dawn stays outside with her Torterra until after the sun goes down and the stars come out.

"Dawn," her mother calls from the front door. "Are you going to come in and have supper?"

"Maybe a little later," Dawn replies. She finds the biggest, brightest star in the night sky and makes a wish.

A wish that things would go back to the way they were.

Barry shows up at Dawn's house at ten o'clock the next morning.

"We have a job offer," he says plainly when Dawn opens the door in her pajamas, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes. The night before had left Dawn tossing and turning in bed and she had gotten barely any sleep. By the looks of things, Barry had done the same. There are dark circles under his eyes and his hair looks wilder than usual.

"Hmm?" Dawn hums, ushering Barry inside to keep the warm air from escaping. She moves to the kitchen to put the kettle on and Barry instinctively pulls mugs out of the cupboard.

"Mr. Marfleet saw us hanging lights over the last couple days and wants to know if we can swing by today and set his up," Barry explains.

Dawn stays silent as she pours the water, turning the proposition over in her head. On one hand, she'd be spending more time with Barry. On the other … she'd be spending more time with Barry. It was a frustrating dance they kept performing, where they'd teeter on the edge of friendship but then back off just at the last minute. It left Dawn feeling confused about where they stood.

"I guess that can work," Dawn says. The kettle is finished boiling and she ignores Barry with his mugs in favour for two travel mugs and a tin of hot chocolate. "I didn't have any better plans today anyway. Why don't you mix the hot chocolate and I'll just go change into something more … presentable." She catches the small smile that plays at the corners of Barry's mouth and hurries out of the room before she can say something stupid. The thing is, Dawn still remembers the times when Barry would tell her she looked just fine in her pajamas.

Mr. Marfleet lives a short walk's away from Dawn's house and when she and Barry arrive, with their travel mugs of hot chocolate in their hands, their neighbour is already standing outside with his Christmas lights at the ready.

"I can't thank you two enough," Mr. Marfleet informs. "You're saving this old man's back."

"Well, you're going to need it, Mr. M," Barry says as he unwinds the strings of lights from each other and Dawn releases her Torterra. "Those grandkids of yours sure are rowdy."

"You're one to talk, Barry," Mr. Marfleet jokes. He chatters a little more with the two teenagers until they have to get to work, the lights untangled and the staple gun located in the tool shed.

"You know, we could make a business out of this," Dawn says as she punches a stable into the side of the house over the first string of lights. "We're getting to be pros."

"Sure, sure," Barry says nonchalantly. "You'll just give up your high and mighty perch to come work with me setting up peoples' Christmas lights. What are you going to do in the off-season?"

"We can be landscapers. Mow peoples' lawns and stuff."

Barry laughs. "Right. You. Mowing lawns. Come back in the summer because that's something I've _got _to see."

"You know, Barry, some girls might take that as an insult," Dawn teases. "You're lucky we've been friends for so long."

"Mhmm," Barry hums back. He doesn't say anything for a while and Dawn thinks that maybe she's ruined everything again, that her stupid brain-to-mouth filter needs to be fixed and that she shouldn't have agreed to help Barry at all today. As she's punching in another staple, Barry says, "We have been friends for a long time."

And it's like something clicks into place after that. Dawn's not really sure what it is, but it feels almost like someone took a vacuum cleaner and sucked out all the awkwardness between them. It's not an apology or an explanation. It's simply a fact: they've been friends for so long that they should be able to overcome anything together.

The thought makes Dawn feel like she's flying for the first time in a long time (has it really taken her this long to realize that she's been so unhappy?). It's an unusual feeling, to feel so connected to someone after being isolated for so long, but Dawn decides that she doesn't mind. If this is what it feels like to be at the bottom instead of the top, she thinks maybe she could get used to it.

It doesn't really surprise Dawn that much when she and Barry get requests from all their neighbours and friends to help set up their Christmas lights. After the first dump of snow melted, the Christmas spirit had simply evaporated and now with only a week left before Christmas, people were scrambling to pull things together again.

It also no longer surprises Dawn to wake up to Barry knocking on the front door, informing her of the next set of lights they have to set up or the decorations they have to fish out of attics. Therefore, when Dawn's one week at home anniversary rolls around and she finds herself waking up at twelve in the afternoon, she's incredibly surprised.

"Mum," Dawn says after she's gotten dressed and headed downstairs. Her mother is frying bacon in a pan for what looks like BLT sandwiches. "Did Barry stop by at all today?"

"Hmm?" her mother hums. "Oh, yes. He left you a note on the kitchen table."

There's a slight ping of happiness in Dawn's stomach as she pads over to the table and scoops up a hastily scrawled note from Barry.

"_Thought I'd let you sleep in today. No one asked for lights or anything, but Mrs. Stacey wants to know if we can babysit her kids for a couple hours this afternoon. I said I'd be there so if you want to pop over, that's fine. Just be there at two. If not, enjoy the day off."_

Dawn rereads the note for a moment and then tucks it into her pocket. When she and Barry and Lucas had all left town, Mrs. Stacey had been pregnant with her first kid. Apparently now she had more than one.

"You really should come home more often," her mother points out, as if she had read Dawn's mind. "Laura has three kids. Two girls and a boy. The girls adore you and can't wait to meet you. Barry's been over to babysit before and I'm pretty sure he could use your help today. He tells me they're quite a handful."

It suddenly occurs to Dawn that Barry must have been coming over a lot over the years that she had been Champion. The idea makes her a little sad and she sinks into a chair, accepting the sandwich her mother puts in front of her.

"Should I go over?" Dawn asks. "I can't tell what he wants. Oh, God, Mum, why did things have to crash between us?"

Johanna looks at her daughter sympathetically and says, "He loves you a lot, sweetie. Maybe he won't say it to you, but he does care."

"He doesn't love me, Mum," Dawn replies. "How can he even stand me? I pretty much take the crown for worst best friend in the history of forever."

"Just eat your sandwich," Johanna concludes with a sigh. "You can think what you like, Dawn, but Barry really does love you."

"Whatever," Dawn mumbles back, finally biting into her sandwich. She pauses as she chews before spitting out the soggy wad of sandwich back onto her plate. "Mum," she says with a sigh. "You put mustard in my sandwich. Only Barry likes mustard on BLT's."

"Really?" Johanna calls from the stove top again. "I didn't realize."

They both know that that's a lie and Dawn really doesn't want to think about what that means.

Dawn shows up at Mrs. Stacey's at two o'clock on the dot (years of being 'fined' by Barry has turned Dawn into an extremely punctual person) and isn't surprised to find Barry already inside, speaking to Mrs. Stacey.

"Dawn!" the mother exclaims, looking pleased. "Barry said he was bringing a friend but I had assumed … oh, it's so nice to see you, darling!"

Besides the fact that she's had two kids, Mrs. Stacey looks pretty much the same as Dawn remembers her. She's got flowing auburn hair and kind brown eyes and she just exerts motherhood. Dawn is pulled into a hug and she can see Barry rolling his eyes over Mrs. Stacey's shoulder. She sticks her tongue out at him, and Barry just laughs.

"I'd love to stay and chat with you but I've got to get going or else I'll never make it to Veilstone City before the store closes. I can't believe there's only one week until Christmas," Mrs. Stacey mutters. She pulls away from Dawn, gives Barry a wave and heads out the door. The house is quiet.

"Um," Dawn says, because she's not really sure what else to say.

"You came," Barry points out.

"Well, yeah," Dawn replies. "You invited me. I thought I should come over."

"You only came because I invited you?"

Dawn doesn't want to say that she came because she wants to spend time with Barry, _likes _spending time with Barry, and she opens her mouth and closes it like a Goldeen. She's saved, however, from answering when two young boys come bounding into the room.

It takes Dawn until that moment to realize just how long she's been away from home. In eight years, the town has produced its next generation of champions.

"Hi," the oldest says. He's a spitting image of Mrs. Stacey, auburn curls and chocolate eyes and radiant smiles. His brother is scrutinizing Dawn and Barry says, "Patrick, Rory, this is Dawn. She's a friend of mine."

If she had had time, Dawn might have noticed how smoothly the words, "she's a friend of mine," had rolled off Barry's tongue. Instead, she is bombarded by the Stacey kids screaming at her in excitement and running around looking for things for her to sign.

"You never told me they were fans!" Dawn hisses as the boys go searching their rooms for posters or news articles or whatever.

"Everyone in Twinleaf Town is a fan of you, Dawn. You're a small town hero, a testamesnt that even the smallest seed can grown into a mighty tree."

"What-?" Dawn begins, but Patrick and Rory have returned with their merchandise and a felt pen and Dawn begins the long process of signing practically everything in the house.

"I thought you told me that this was only for a couple hours?" Dawn asks. It's eight in the evening and she's sprawled across Mrs. Stacey's couch, watching a soap opera while Barry makes popcorn in the kitchen (the kids _finally _went to bed).

"Must be busy at the department store," is all Barry offers in reply as he returns from the kitchen. He lifts Dawn's legs and lets them fall unceremoniously back into a place. Even though she, Barry, and Lucas used to tangle themselves up in the blankets on movie days when they were younger, Dawn can't help but find the action strangely intimate. Her face heats a little until Barry drops a pillow on her legs so that the popcorn bowl balances better.

"Hey, um, the prof asked us if we could stop by and decorate the lab on Wednesday," Barry says, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "Is that alright?"

"Sure, sure," Dawn says. It gives her enough time to go Christmas shopping and get stuff for her mum and the professor and some of her colleagues. And Barry. "That'll probably be our last job before Christmas, right?"

"Most likely," Barry replies.

"Good. I came home to relax, not work on everybody else's houses," Dawn says, making an attempt at a joke. She sees the corners of Barry's mouth turn up for a minute and the fall into a silence. It's unlike the ones that Dawn's come to know over the past week. Instead, it's comfortable, easy.

"Do you want kids?" Barry asks suddenly and Dawn's so startled by the question that she knocks the popcorn bowl off the pillow. Barry frowns at the mess and squirms out from under Dawn's legs to start cleaning it up while Dawn just sits up slowly, thinking about Barry's question.

"Not right now," she says finally. Barry scoops popcorn off the carpet and dumps it back in the bowl. Dawn knows that he'll leave it on Patrick's desk and that he'll eat it all. Payback for colouring on Barry's face with markers.

"Hmm," Barry hums, prompting Dawn to continue.

"I mean, we're only eighteen, Barry. We've got our whole lives ahead of us."

"Who said anything about _we_?"

Dawn freezes. Is that really what she had just said? Had she really been so stupid? She made a mental note to herself to recheck her brain-to-mouth filter because it was most certainly not working very well.

"I just mean-" Dawn begins, but she sees the smirk on Barry's face and she rolls her eyes. She reaches out a hand to push Barry over, but he grabs it instead and pulls her off the couch, the two of them rolling into the coffee table.

"Barry!" Dawn squeals, realizing her laughter would wake Patrick and Rory (and that's the last thing she wanted. It took them half an hour to get the little brats into bed).

"Shh," Barry whispers into her ear, and it makes Dawn shiver as Barry covers her body with his. His face is so close to hers now and she can see every fleck of gold in his orange-coloured eyes.

Dawn's breath hitches as the lock on the door clicks and Barry rolls off her, as if nothing has happened, and takes the bowl of popcorn to Patrick's room.

"Dawn!" Mrs. Stacey says as she opens the door, her arms laden with shopping bags. "I'm so sorry I was gone so long. I just couldn't decide what to get Rory because he already has _everything_, and I'm so glad that you and Barry didn't get too bored and … what are you doing on the floor?"

"Looking for my ring," Barry says, striding back into the room. He flashes Mrs. Stacey a smile and says, "did you find it?"

Dawn shakes her head mutely. Since when had Barry become such a good liar? The words seemed to flow off of his tongue with surprising ease.

"That's alright," Barry says with a shrug. "I found it in Patrick's room anyway. Must have left it in there when I sent him to bed."

"Oh good," Dawn mumbles.

Mrs. Stacey, who had moved to put the bags away in the cupboard under the stairs, took the awkward silence as the prime opportunity to try and pay Barry and Dawn for their services.

"It's fine," Dawn says, waving her hand when Mrs. Stacey tried to give her the money. Barry was already tucking his into his pocket, and Dawn felt something ache in her stomach. Being the Champion of Sinnoh, she had more than enough money to get all her Christmas shopping done. Barry didn't have that luxury.

"I insist, Dawn. It's the least I can do. I see you signed a bunch of Patrick's and Rory's stuff. I should have warned you about that but then again, I thought Barry would be bringing Lucas. I'm not sure why. Professor Rowan said he was away in Johto but I just thought …"

Mutely, Dawn accepts the money and tucks it away in her purse. Barry crosses towards the door and she follows, listening to Mrs. Stacey continuing to ramble on.

"Oh, are you leaving?" she asks, pausing in her rant.

"Unfortunately, yes," Barry says. He puts his hand on Dawn's lower back and she can already feel her face flushing again. "Johanna won't be very pleased with me if I keep Dawn out for too much longer."

"Of course, of course!" Mrs. Stacey says breathlessly. "You two have a good night, now. And thanks again! Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Barry and Dawn chorus back before stepping out into the night.

Dawn flies out to the Veilstone Department store two days after the babysitting incident with the idea of buying Barry a new sweater and a few nick nacks for Christmas. She's not surprised to find the place packed when she gets there and she squeezes through crowds of mothers with angry children and lovey-dovey couples to head to the men's department on the third floor.

"Can I help you with something?" a sales attendant asks.

This is why Dawn hates shopping. She hates being asked questions because as soon as she sends the attendant away she'll find something that she needs in another size and they're either nowhere to be found or she's too shy to ask for their help again. But that doesn't mean she enjoys making the awkward small talk with them, most of which happen to be fans of her.

"Um, I'm looking for a sweater for my … boyfriend," Dawn says. She's not really sure what makes her say it, but it sounds better than saying she's just shopping for a friend or a brother or something. It makes her look a little less lonely. "He likes … orange?"

Dawn can practically see the smirk forming on the attendants lips, the one says, _God, you're such a dork_. "We have some lovely new products in over here," the girl says, leading Dawn over to the new arrivals section. Dawn's eyes wander over the racks and racks of clothes and when they finally she stops, she feels her mouth fall open.

"That shirt," she exclaims, pointing at the mannequin in front of her that's wearing one identical to the shirts that Barry _always _wears, the orange and white striped with the high collar and the zipper down the front.

"Oh, that," the girl says smugly. "It's modeled after an outfit Barry was wearing a few months ago up at the Survival Area. You know, Palmer's son? Yeah. He's been training up there a lot and a news crew caught him for an interview. I was there. I got his number …"

She and Barry aren't dating, heck they're hardly even friends anymore, but Dawn feels something that's frighteningly like jealousy building in the pit of her stomach. Was this girl lying or did Barry really give her his number? She looked nothing like Dawn, all tall and thin with platinum blonde hair and sky blue eyes.

"Oh, did he?" Dawn asks, circling the display. On the other side she finds a sweater, identical to the shirts Barry wears. It almost seems too easy, Dawn muses, to find the perfect gift for Barry so easily, but her happy thoughts are broken by the sound of the attendant again.

"Oh for sure. I suggested we go to coffee sometime over the holidays but he said he was going home to Twinleaf Town. I can't believe _that's _where he lives. He said he was hoping to see someone there, though. A friend he hadn't seen in a while …"

Dawn feels her breath hitch in her throat. Was Barry talking about her? But Lucas had been away for a long time too. It could have been him … Dawn shakes her head ever so slightly and says, "I think this'll be the perfect gift for my friend." The attendant nods and leads her back to a checkout counter, punching some keys on the machine before scanning the barcode on the sweater.

"Just you wait," she says, folding the sweater neatly. "After Christmas you'll see about a million Barry wannabees. And yourboy will be just like the rest of them."

She hands Dawn the bag and Dawn sucks in another breath. She's never had the nerve to be cheeky to people before, much less girls, but she just can't help herself. "Oh, I can guarantee my boyfriend won't be a copycat," she says, turning to go.

"Oh yeah?" the attendant calls back. "What makes you so sure."

A pause.

"Because he's the original," Dawn says with a smirk, and then she leaves the store.

The next day, Barry knocks on Dawn's door at ten o'clock and the two of them head to the lab in Sandgem Town. There's still no snow and their feet leave small imprints in the frosty grass as they tread along Route 201.

It's been so long since she's been back to this particular building that it makes Dawn shiver a little. The last time she was here she had received her Turtwig, told she would do great things, and was sent off into the world. Looking at it now, this building was where the beginning of the end started.

Dawn feels Barry slip his hand into hers and there are about ten million emotions running through her, but she squeezes back and together, they enter the lab.

Besides the fact that most of the high tech equipment had received an upgrade, there isn't really anything different about the lab. The tiles look like maybe they finally got the scrubbing they deserve and the walls have a fresh coat of paint on them, but really, nothing has changed.

"Barry. Dawn."

Professor Rowan comes striding out from the back room, his mustache as wild as ever dark blue eyes seem to be full to the brim with knowledge collected over the years. "It's nice to see you two again," he says. "I trust your journey wasn't too difficult? Sometimes Route 201 gets icy in the winter."

"Nah, s'alright, Professor," Barry says, shaking the Professor's hand. Dawn gives him a quick hug and then they're being instructed where the decorations are and what to do with them all.

"Just go wild," Professor Rowan advises, a foot already in his office again. "We need a bit of cheer around here."

"Aye, aye, captain!" Barry and Dawn chime together.

They work on opposite sides of the lab, trying their hardest to decorate as much as they can over afternoon before it gets too dark. And then it turns into a race.

"I bet I can get to the front door before you can," Barry calls across the lab.

"It shouldn't be about how fast you get there," Dawn replies, stringing some lights above a bank of computers. "It should be about how much you get done before you get there."

"Well I'm sure I can set up more decorations _and _still get there first."

"In your dreams."

They work with Christmas carols blaring in the background and assistants bustling around the labs and boxes of tinsel and ornaments and Poke Ball lights.

"Do you have the double-sided tape, Barry?"

"Maybe …"

"Barry!"

Their efforts stray long into the afternoon. Dawn sets up a small Christmas tree complete with empty wrapped boxes set underneath. Barry manages to get a festive scene of the North Pole set up on top of someone's computer monitor. Professor Rowan notes that for the first time in a long time, the lab is filled with laughter and playful bickering and life.

"Hah, I win!"

Dawn whips her head around, poised on the top of a step ladder from where she's winding tinsel around the Christmas lights she had already set up. Barry is standing in the doorway to the lab, a look of pride adorning his face.

"No way," Dawn says, wrapping the last end of the tinsel around the lights and hopping off the stool. She joins Barry in the door way, poking him in the chest. "I was here ages ago with the lights but then I went back and put the tinsel on. _I _won." She knows how ridiculous it sounds but Dawn's always been competitive.

Barry rolls his eyes. "Sure, sure, Dawn," he says with a smirk.

Dawn suppresses the urge to stomp her foot like a child. "Barry!" she exclaims, but she's cut off suddenly by Barry pressing his lips to hers. She squeaks in shock, and when Barry pulls away she says, "What was that for?"

Barry simply points above their heads. Mistletoe hung from the doorway, taped crudely by its stem.

"Did you put that there?" Dawn asks incredulously.

"Shh," is her only reply. Barry winks at her once before calling out his thanks to the professor and slipping out the door.

Dawn doesn't see Barry for two more days, not until Christmas Eve, and every moment that she's without him, she feels haunted by his presence.

Could two weeks really just erase three years of broken friendship? Dawn alternates between pacing back and forth across her carpet and scrolling through the folders of pictures from when she and Barry and Lucas were nine. It makes her head spin and her heart ache and Dawn ultimately ends up on her bed, face down in the covers.

_Ring, ring! Ring, ring!_

Groaning, Dawn rolls over and answers her phone. It's her public relations manager.

"Dawn, darling," the lady drawls on the other end. "Bad news, honey."

_Great, _Dawn thinks. "What is it, Tori?"

"The Daily Chronicle is publishing an article on you tomorrow," Tori continues, "about you and a certain Barry. Palmer's kid, right?"

Dawn nods wordlessly, despite the fact that Tori can't see her anyway. It doesn't deter the lady on the other end though, because Tori just simply ploughs on.

"Right. Apparently a girl that works at the Veilstone City Department Store went to the Chronicle with the story that you and Barry are now an item. I've been on the phone all day with the paper trying to get them to scrap the story but they won't budge. Tomorrow morning, _everyone _will know, darling."

"That's," Dawn's not really sure what to say. On one hand, she's appalled that the entire region is going to know about a relationship that doesn't exist between her and Barry, but on the other hand, she just really couldn't care less anymore. "Whatever," Dawn says finally. "Thanks for trying, Tori. I'll deal with it tomorrow."

"You're a doll, Dawn," Tori replies. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas," Dawn murmurs before hanging up. She drops her head back into her comforter, hoping that maybe she can just slip into a dreamless sleep and not wake up for a very, very long time.

"Dawn!" Johanna's voice cuts through Dawn's thoughts like a knife. "There's someone here to see you!"

_Barry, _Dawn thinks and she throws herself off the bed, pauses for a moment to rearrange her hair, before flying down the stairs to the front door.

To her dismay, it is not Barry who awaits her at the door, but rather Patrick and Rory Stacey, their short figures dwarfed by over sized ski jackets and woolly hats and mittens.

"Hi, Miss Dawn!" Patrick exclaims when Dawn steps into the doorway. He thrusts a wrapped Christmas present at her and Rory follows suite. "These are from me and Rory and Mummy."

Something in Dawn's stomach sinks a little, but she paints a smile on her face and accepts the gifts graciously.

"Thank-you, Patrick, Rory," she says as she hands the presents off to her mother. "And tell you're mother thank-you as well."

The boys nod and Dawn's about to shut the door when Rory suddenly says, "We saw Barry on our way here. He said he was going to Skyscraper Hill." Patrick looks at his brother as if he can't believe he just said that before dragging him back down the path, leaving Dawn standing confused in the doorway.

"Are you going to go out?" her mother calls from the living room.

"Why? Should I?" Dawn asks, shutting the door slowly behind the two retreating figures of the Stacey brothers.

"You shouldn't leave a boy waiting for too long in the cold, Dawn. That's just cruel."

Dawn stares at her mother for a moment, her eyebrows raised. "How do you know he's waiting for me?" she asks finally. She can't see it, but Dawn knows her mum is rolling her eyes.

"Mother's intuition," Johanna replies. "Now, you better get out there before he gives up on you. From my understanding, you've been waiting a long time for this, haven't you?"

Maybe she has. Suddenly, Dawn's not so sure anymore. Wordlessly, she grabs her jacket from the coat rack and shoves her feet into her boots.

It's chilly outside and Dawn wraps her scarf more tightly around her neck and makes her way towards Skyscraper Hill. It's far from tall, but it's a welcome change to the flat scenery in Twinleaf Town and someone long ago had named it after a trip to the towering Jubilife City. The name had stuck ever since.

Just as Rory had said, there was a lone figure standing atop the hill and as Dawn approached, it was not hard to see that it was Barry.

"Hi," Barry says as Dawn reaches the summit of the hill. He's turned away from her and his head faces the smattering of stars.

"Hi," Dawn replies quietly. She's suddenly afraid to step closer and she tucks her gloved hands into her pockets.

"Why did you leave?" Barry asks suddenly. Despite the lack of context, Dawn knows exactly what Barry's talking about and her memories take her back to that day: a dark cave, a light shining at the end of the tunnel. A battle, a rock slide that separates two friends. _Dawn, Dawn! Don't leave me here! _A retreating figure. Five hours later, a new Champion. A severed friendship.

"I-" Dawn begins, but cuts herself short. She doesn't know what she can say because nothing that she tells Barry will ever make up for that day. Nothing she says will ever make up for what she did. "I'm sorry," she says finally.

Barry turns to face her and Dawn's heartbroken to see angry tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "It took me so long to get out of Victory Road," he croaks. "You had beaten the league by the time I made it out. I lost everything there."

Dawn's not sure what possesses her to do it, but suddenly, she's stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Barry and he's clinging to her like if he squeezes any less she might just disappear.

"I'm sorry," she chants, over and over again, because she's not sure what else she can say besides apology after apology.

And suddenly the words are stalled in her mouth because Barry is kissing her, kissing her with a burning passion that heats Dawn to her toes. She sighs just a little before kissing back, trying to convey every emotion she has into one single moment.

Barry's the one that pulls away first, drops his head into the crook of Dawn's neck. She holds him tightly, the feeling of his lips on hers leaving her head spinning like the time she had had too much champagne at Candice's birthday party in August.

"I'd watch you on the TV sometimes, watch all the guys who'd throw themselves at your feet and beg for a date or propose or some ridiculous thing and I just thought, 'If she came back, I'd do so much better,'" Barry whispers in her ear, making Dawn shiver. "But you never did. I waited so long. I'd come back in the summer or on your birthday or on my birthday or Lucas's and you'd never be here. I gave up."

Dawn tries to pull away. She doesn't want to hear this, doesn't want to listen to Barry give himself up to her, but he clings tighter because they both know that even if she doesn't _want _to hear it, she _needs _to hear it.

"God, and then you actually show up this winter and I tried so hard to be angry and to not give in and to have some pride, you know, and it just … it didn't work. I can't be mad at you Dawn. I just … I just … I love you too much."

Dawn stiffens suddenly and pushes at Barry, who lets her pull herself away from the embrace.

"Did you just say … that you loved me?" she asks, her voice rising to a squeak.

An array of emotions cross Barry's face: hurt, fear, anger, and a bit of exasperated amusement. "Did you not jus hear my huge confession to you?" he asks. "Gee, Dawn, I'm going to have to fine you-" He's cut off because this time, Dawn presses her lips to his. It's a different kiss than the last one they shared. The passion is still there, but it's softer now, sweeter. When she pulls away, Barry keeps his forehead pressed to hers, his eyes closed and breaths coming out in great puffs.

"So, I take it you love me too?" he asks with a smirk, and Dawn smacks at the arm he still has wrapped around her waist.

"Everyone knows," she says instead, reminded suddenly of her conversation with Tori earlier that evening. "Everyone knows we're dating."

"That's quite strange," Barry says, his eyes opening. They're standing so close that despite the darkness, she can still see herself reflected back in them, "considering that you know, we're not really official yet."

"I might've said something to a clerk at the department store the other day about us being together," Dawn mutters, and Barry laughs.

"Jealous?" he asks her, tugging her closer to whisper in her ear. Dawn feels like she's on fire, her skin heating up beneath the layers of clothing.

"Maybe a little," she replies with a smile. She's suddenly distracted by something drifting past her nose. Dawn looks up and her smile widens. "It's snowing," she says happily.

"Maybe we will have a white Christmas after all," Barry decides.

"Speaking of which, I got you a Christmas present. It's back at my house," Dawn says. She catches the guilty expression on Barry's face and says, "What, you didn't get me anything?"

There's a brief pause and then Barry bounces back as if he wasn't worried about anything. "Me being your new boyfriend should be enough," he declares grandly and is rewarded with a snowball to the face.

"Sure, sure, Barry," she says and laughs when he picks her up and spins her around. It's like the last few years never happened.

"C'mon," Barry says, grabbing her hand and tugging her down Skyscraper Hill. "Let's go get my presents and look at all the hard work we did putting up everyone's Christmas lights. I bet they look fantastic."

_Not as fantastic as us, _Dawn thinks. She squeezes Barry's hand and follows him. For once he isn't flying on ahead of her like he did their entire journey throughout the league. This time, he was right beside her, right where he belonged.


End file.
